


Clipped

by Mesa_Boogie



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 17:13:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mesa_Boogie/pseuds/Mesa_Boogie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Cas drops in on Dean, beaten and clipped of his powers......</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clipped

**Author's Note:**

> A quick destiel one shot, that started short....turned out long XD

Things had been a little rough and tumble lately between him and Sam. His little brother wanted a life of his own and to explore what the world has to offer besides supernatural beings, and without Dean. And so again, the Winchesters had split up. Leaving Dean to work on the cases by himself.

In do time, Sammy should come crawling back to him, he always does. But it has been four months top now, and no Sammy. Surely the younger Winchester has bigger fish to fry.

 

The motel room is filled with noise, and none of which Dean is making. For once, he wants to sleep peacefully for a few hours, but that doesn’t seem to be in his favor. He can not sleep to the racket that is going on in the room next door. The sound of the bed frame knocking against the wall rhythmically, moans of ecstasy, squeaking box springs and the screaming of ‘yes! yes! yes!’. Any other time, he wouldn’t mind hearing that love making, but he is just not feeling it tonight, or any other night of the week.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t hear the little scratching at his door till the sound of love making died down.

He slips out from between the sheets, dressed in just his loose jeans and a t-shirt, as he walks over and unlocks the door. There, laying on the motel welcome mat, beaten and bleeding, is the angel, Castiel.

“Cas!” he is quick to crouch low and scoop up the limp angel in his arms, shutting the door behind him with his foot and carrying Cas to his bed. Laying him down before heading into the bathroom and coming back with a warm damp towel in hopes of cleaning all that blood off the angel. He helps him shed off the dirty beige trench coat and black suit jacket. Helping him with his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt. “Shit, Cas, what happened to you?” He wipes the white towel over the angel’s skin, it quickly soaking up all the blood and turns red. “Who did this to you?”

There is no answer. Watching closely as Cas’ blue eyes are caught by something across the room and he turns to look and see what the angel is staring at. Through the thin vail that are the curtains covering the window, there is a red neon sign. It flashes and moves, showing a woman with angel wings. Cheapest motels are ones next to strip clubs.

Dean blushes slightly and looks back to Cas.

“Can’t you just heal yourself all up?”

Cas shakes his head side to side, his fingers gently clawing at his neck, were his wounds are the worst, already festering and the skin is bruised. Dean sighs and taps a finger on Cas’ nose to get his attention.

“Don’t move from here. I’m just going out to the Impala for a minute. Grab the first aid box for you.” He gets up from the bed and slips out of the door, into the night. What the hell happened to Cas??

Popping the trunk of the Impala, he pulls out the first aid box before returning to the room in hopes of bandaging up Cas. He is no shape for being up and about, and there’s some explaining to do.

When he returns to the room, he finds Cas curled up on his side, on the bed, much like a cat. Tucked in on himself and trying to hide away from the world. Much how Dean feels like from time to time.

“Yo, roll over,” he nudges at the angel, and Cas complies with complaining. Dean is then able to firmly wrap some gauze around Cas’ neck, cutting off the bleeding, hoping for the blood to coagulate. “You know Jimmy won’t be happy with you always messing up his body,” he sighs and just watches Cas’ curious wide eyes. “What’s going on Cas? Why did you just show up? Why all the blood and wounds?” he asks the angel as he is wrapping up Cas’ thin wrists with gauze. No answer. “Look, you’re going to have to tell me soon or later.” No reply. “Cas...” It is then followed by a low guttural noise, that Dean could only describe as a growl. Dean can’t help but stare as the sound comes from Cas. “Ookay.”

In a span of an hour, there’s not even a single peep out of Cas. The angel having kept his mouth shut the entire time and just stares out the window at the continually blinking neon sign. Dean can’t stand it any longer, his eyes feel so heavy and tired, that he falls asleep right there on the bed next to Cas.

 

Dean wakes up later that night on the floor with just a pillow. When he gets up and looks at the bed, Cas is still there, wrapped up in the bed sheets. He just doesn’t know if this is going to work out or not, but he has to stick around Cas, make sure he’s alright. The two of them have been in some sticky situations together, but they always came out on top.

He gets his shower and grabs a little something to eat out of his pack before even attempting to rouse Cas from his slumber.  
“Yo, sleepy head, time to get up,” he shakes the angel’s shoulder, watching those thick lashed eyes flutter open for a second before closing again. Almost like an animal playing dead. “Ah, come on. Make a better attempt than that, Castiel.”

At the sound of his full name, Cas opens his eyes, shifting his gaze up to Dean before pushing himself up slowly, sitting in the middle of the bed, legs crossed.  
“So, you mind explaining to me again what happened to you? How’d you get so beat up? I mean, I thought you once told me that angels are God’s soldiers. Don’t you fight battles and stuff? How did you get hurt?”

He watches as one hand goes up and Cas rests his fingers against the bandages around his neck. Eyes heavy lidded as he looks away.

“Whoa, don’t tell me...vocal cords are severed??” There is a nod. “Well, just heal up.” A shake. “Not connected to heaven?” A nod once more. “Fuck,” he groans. He has a powerless angel to look after, and to top that, an angel who can’t speak through his vessel because his vocal cords have been severed. “You got in a rough and tumble with demons or angels?” Cas holds up two fingers, indicating the later. “Other angels, great. Just what we needed, Cas. What did you do that pissed them off so much that they beat you up? You didn’t even fight back, did you?” A shake of a head.

Dean sighs, moving from the bed to the night stand, where there lays a blank note pad and a pen, bringing it back to Cas. Handing over to the angel so that he can write for him, answers to his questions. Watching as Cas picks up the pen so delicately, pushing the tip down against the paper, and then with such fluidity, writes such beautiful cursive lettering. Finer than Dean has ever seen, with such swoops and curls.

‘Ambushed by a garrison of angels. They were quiet and I didn’t hear them coming. I didn’t know where else to go. I’m sorry, Dean,’ he wrote out on the paper.  
“Dude, it’s alright,” he has to give Cas a smile and a pat on the back. “At least you’re alive...and with me. You’re safe with me, Cas.”

‘They used an angel blade. Purposely not cutting too deep.’

“Yeh, I got that much. So they severed your vocal cords and you’re cut off from heaven, so you can’t heal yourself. Those bastards,” he hisses, curling his fingers into a fist and slamming it against his open left palm. Watching Cas jump in surprise. “Sorry,” he apologizes quietly.

“So, I take it, we need to find some of your garrison buddies, to get them to heal you up?”

Cas shakes his head side to side, then sinks back down to level with the bed. Giving off vibes that he does not want to do that, or see any of those angels ever again.

“Well then, who?”

‘A doctor?’ he writes on the pad of paper.

Dean can’t help but to blink back his surprise at Cas’ answer written down on the pad of paper. “Really? A normal doctor?”

‘Yes. There’s nothing anatomically wrong with this body that the doctor’s wouldn’t stitch up Jimmy, is there, Dean?’

Again, Dean is blinking back his surprise and feeling his cheeks heat in a slight blush, then he shakes his head side to side. “No, Cas. Your...Jimmy’s body is perfectly human.” To think what is really under all those clothes; the blazer, the dress shirt and slacks. Does he wear boxers or briefs? Or does he not wear anything at all? Dean swallows compulsively, a lump in his throat that will not go away. He finds his hands reaching out and tugging on the simple belt that is notched tight around Cas’ waist.

‘Dean?’ Cas writes and pushes the paper against Dean’s face to get his attention and make him read what he has written on the pad.

“I...Cas...I...” he chokes on the words as he is drunk on the feelings that flooding his mind and heart at the moment. “I need you, okay? I fucking need you. And I need you right now.” He pops the belt, quick to pull it away and out of the loops of the slacks. With his fingers and animalistic feelings, he tears open Cas’s dress shirt and the front of his pants. He can hear a shocked gasp from the angel, but it doesn’t register in his brain. 

Large black and purple bruises mar Cas’s otherwise pale porcelain skin. Revealing a map of beatings and Dean seethes in anger at the other angels who did this to Castiel. He runs his large callused hands down from Cas’ collar bones to his hips; dipping in lower into his pants for what he craves most. Cas squirms for a moment or two before going limp like a rag doll under his touch and Dean pulls down his black slacks and white boxers underneath.

Dean then smooths his hands up the insides of Cas’ thighs, to the juncture between his legs, cupping the heat of the angel and giving a gentle yet teasing squeeze. “Relax, Cas, relax,” he whispers as his leans down to kiss the weeping crown, feeling Cas’ body shuddering in pure pleasure. Dean’s sure Cas has never been pleasured in this way before, or pleasured at all for that matter.

He blows gentling over the weeping crown. At least the angels didn’t get down here on Cas. He opens his mouth now and slowly slides his tongue along the sensitive vein on the understand of Cas’ shaft, up to the exposed pink head. All that comes from Cas is an animalistic groan that seems to translate to ‘go on’. Dean pulls back, sliding his hands over the angel’s abdomen area, gently pushing down, kneading into his flesh with the thumbs, moving up over his chest. Then capturing his lips in a deep kiss and the angel replies back with opening up to him. “That’s right, Cas, that’s right,” he moans into the kiss, pushing his tongue against the roof of the angel’s mouth; all the while his hands are working at Cas’ shaft, working him hard.

The angel shifts his body under Dean, causing Dean to slip, his own jutting erection in his jeans pushing up against Cas’; they both freeze up. Fuck. He meets Cas’ wide blue eyes and they can’t help but stare at each other for the next 5 minutes, neither of them moving an inch. “Yeh, Cas,” he gives a cheap smile before yanking off his jeans, pulling his shirt up over his head in such a graceful motion. Till both are naked before one another, all holds barred.

Castiel lifts up his hands first towards Dean and he takes them, weaving their fingers together tightly, leaning in again to kiss the angel. The temperature in the room rises to almost fiery hot and Dean feels himself sweating. Beads of water trickling down from his hair line, down his brow and off the tip of his nose; as he grinds his body in motion against Cas, causing such friction as to drive himself wild.

He moves his right hand back down to Cas’ erection and the angel replies with instinctively raising his hips up for Dean. He pushes his thumb gently just underneath his sack and a bit lower, slipping inside the angel. Working him, getting him ready for what he will never see coming.

“Shh, Cas...I need to relax for this part,” he groans, as he has no lube around to use on the angel, he goes in raw and rough. Inch by inch, he pushes his heat into Cas’ body until the other male has taken him in completely. Taking note at Cas’ white knuckles as he clutches so tightly to the sheets of the bed.  
All is tight and all is tight, so so tight and constricting.

“Relax, Cas,” he groans in ecstasy as he leans forward to kiss the angel once more, to distract the both of them as he begins to pump his hips with the natural rhythm that is flowing through his veins. Cas whines softy, yet complies and Dean is soon working him over and over, building himself up before he feels he is going to explode. Groaning into the angel’s mouth as he spills his seed deeply inside the other. Cas shudders and looks up at him in confusion and Dean smooths his thumbs under those curious blue eyes, grinning. “It’s okay, Cas. You’re so fucking tight...”

The angel shifts and squirms, but Dean keeps him pinned. With the time that follows, Cas becomes more loose and they continue their games multiple times, always in different spots around the motel room till both are physically and mentally exhausted.

 

Dean wakes the following morning with his head throbbing and Cas’ head laying gently on his chest. Right, last night. Last night he fucked Cas senseless.

Sun streams in through the curtains and Cas stirs awake, lifting his hazy blue eyes to stare at Dean, mouth hanging up. He promised to get Cas help. He sits up and pushes Cas into the shower. Both of them good do for a good scrubbing.

Standing there under the hot spray of the water, he scrubs the angel’s back, taking note that the bruises are slightly lightening. Washing Cas’ hair for him and making him rinse. Toweling him off and helping him to pull on some of his clothes. Taking a look at Cas in his clothes, that are apparently quite loose on the thin framed angel. Taking his hand and leading him out of the motel.

The drive to the hospital is quiet, as Cas is curled up on the front seat of the Impala, head in Dean’s lap. Discretely nuzzling his face against Dean’s crotch, this distracting him as he’s trying his hardest to keep the car driving straight.

 

It has been a week following Cas’ operation. The doctors doing the best they could with working with Cas’ voice box and stitching up some of the deeper cuts of his body, but never once questioning what happened to him. Now, the two of them are sitting on the hood of the Impala, having the car parked out in the open wilderness and staring up at the stars way above.

“Do you ever want to go back?”

“No,” Cas answers plainly. “I wish to stay here. You need my help, Dean. I’m staying by your side.”

Dean can’t help but reach out his arm and tug the angel up close against his side. “I want you by my side, buddy. We’re family, remember?”


End file.
